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“Ben,” my dad calls, careful with his tone. “We still need to talk.”

I nod, but don’t offer much else. There are too many people—and with the ballroom filling more and more with guests, I feel a desperate edge to my need for an escape.

Crossing the ballroom quickly, I head down the hallway to the men’s room—my shoulder slamming into someone as I stomp forward.

“Sorry,” I offer.

Holden shakes his head, eyes downcast. “It’s fine. I’m—you’re good, Reiny.”

He stalks off without another word. I want to focus on him, to ask and make sure he’s all right, but I can’t. My heart is still racing, the threads of panic making themselves more known.

I just need a few minutes to calm myself.

Turning on the sink, I wet my hands with cold water and pat my cheeks, carefully dabbing the back of my neck while I box-breathe to calm down. The anxiety feels like it crept up out of nowhere, but it’s undeniably strong. Maybe it’s been building for weeks. Still, I manage to get it under control.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Hold for four.

Again. Again.

Slowly, the haze around my vision disappears. My heart feels calmer, slower in rhythm—back to my baseline.

Everything is fine.

The creak of a stall door echoes in the otherwise empty space.

“Shit,” I mutter, eyes up, clocking Toren Kane through the mirror.

He’s in all-black like an idealized version of Hades himself—his button up slightly undone and tie hanging loose around his tattooed neck, and matching onyx suit jacket slung over one shoulder. His russet skin is bright under the warm lighting of the chandeliers in the polished marble bathroom, making his eyes seem like pools of pure gold—striking and unsettling like always.

“You good?” he asks, no teasing or biting tone. Just mild concern, brow furrowed.

“Fine,” I say, washing my hands.

He smirks, his free hand pressing a thumb along his bottom lip, the silver of his rings glinting. “Yeah?” He snorts. “You and Blake are both terrible liars.”

I don’t say a word. Don’t acknowledge anything.

He takes the silence as an invitation. “Sounded like you weren’t okay—”

“I don’t need your help,” I snap. “I’m fine. Leave it, Kane.”

Before he can add anything, I spin on my heel and leave the bathroom, feeling moderately worse than before.

Chapter 57

NOW

Paloma

He’s so perfect, brutally handsome. Raised to be exactly this, a suit-clad gladiator in some make-believe boardroom. Under the twinkling starlight, I watch as he nods and sips a glass of sparkling grape juice, talking with adults twice his age as if he’s the one with the power.

Bennett Reiner is gorgeous, strong and steady. Hair styled perfectly, suit pressed, no tie because he hates the way it feels around his neck. I’m not sure where he found a suit so expensive looking to fit his massive frame.

But he’s perfect.

He’s kind and careful, gentle with everyone. He’s steady and unmoving, trustworthy. Someone I know I can lean on, and he’ll always, always hold me up. Bennett Reiner has taken care of me when it yielded him nothing. Carried me home from my worst nights, held me through nightmares, fought my demons without knowing who they were, the extent of the damage they did to me.

He chose me. He loves me.